When the arrow flies astray
by GingerRogers15
Summary: An assassination attempt on Maglor leaves Celegorm with an arrow lodged in his shoulder and several others wounded. Early First Age. Companion piece to 'So his flames must waste away', but can stand alone. Features the majority of Finwë's descendants.


**Author's Note: This is sort of a companion piece to 'So his flames must waste away', although it can stand alone. It features what the Elves are doing while Mairon languishes in Angband. Hours of medical research went into this chapter, so if I still managed to miss something, please let me know.**

 **Some say the world will end in fire,**

 **Some say in ice.**

 **From what I've tasted of desire**

 **I hold with those who favor fire.**

 **But if it had to perish twice,**

 **I think I know enough of hate**

 **To say that for destruction ice**

 **Is also great**

 **And would suffice.**

 **-Robert Frost**

The silent and empty tent suddenly exploded. The flap burst open with a loud snap and Amras stumbled into the room, followed by Caranthir, Maglor, and Curufin, who laid the gasping Celegorm on the bed. Caranthir swept half a dozen furs off of the mattress and they landed in a forgotten heap on the dirt floor.

'Find a bottle of alcohol,' Amras demanded, and immediately set to work on removing Celegorm's blood-stained tunic. The blond violently protested the movement, and his trembling hands grasped the arrow protruding from his right shoulder as his body seized in pain.

'Caranthir, Curufin, help me-' Amras shouted as he struggled to get Celegorm back under control. The two dark-haired Fëanorians sprinted to their brother's aid and held down Celegorm's arms as Amras resorted to slicing the tunic open with his hunting knife.

Celegorm's bare chest heaved and sweat rolled down his pale face. He was forcing breaths through tightly gritted teeth, and every few moments would swear through his clenched jaw. He closed his eyes as Caranthir and Curufin tightened their hold on his arms.

'This was intended for me,' Maglor kept moaning in despair. 'This should have never happened to him. It should have been me. It should have been me.'

'What should have happened does not matter,' Amras snapped. 'Bring a bottle of alcohol.'

Looking wounded and a bit surprised, Maglor hurried out of the tent. Amras turned to Caranthir and spoke in a low voice. 'Would you please find Finrod and his brothers?' At Caranthir's horrified look the redhead added meaningfully, 'I fear that you and Curufin may need more help as the night progresses.' Nodding in grim comprehension, Caranthir left the tent just as Maglor reentered with two bottles of alcohol.

'Set it on the table,' Amras directed. 'I need the fire outside to be blazing. Maglor?'

Maglor nodded as he began to remove wood from the metal basket nearby and left again to lay the logs onto the smoldering ashes. Amras opened a bottle of alcohol and rinsed his hands with it just as Caranthir returned, followed by three rather harassed-looking blonds.

'Excellent,' Amras breathed, and then stepped closer to Finrod so as to speak in as low of a voice as possible. 'I fear that we will need you to help hold him down as we treat him.'

'We will do what we can,' Finrod said grimly.

Amras nodded his thanks and turned to the bed, where Celegorm was seizing again. The blond's eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned through his teeth and Amras instantly suspected poison.

There was no time to waste.

'We must remove the arrowhead from his shoulder,' Amras said, approaching the bed and motioning for Caranthir, Finrod, Aegnor, and Angrod to follow. 'If the arrowhead is detached from the shaft, then this will prove far more difficult for all of us. I am going to twist the shaft to see if the arrowhead is still attached.' The redhead lowered his voice. 'I will need you to hold him down.'

'Here-' Finrod said suddenly, cutting a piece of leather from his tunic. 'Have him bite down on this.'

'Open your mouth, Celegorm,' Curufin demanded, and the blond grudgingly complied, though it looked as if it cost him every bit of self-control to keep from screaming.

Celegorm's jaws snapped tightly on the leather and Amras placed both palms on the shaft of the arrow.

'Ready?' he asked, and when the others nodded Amras began to slide his palms gently back and forth.

Celegorm's back arced up as he swore through the leather and as he gasped for breath. His eyes squeezed shut and despite his best efforts to control it, two tears rolled down his sweating face. Caranthir, Curufin, Finrod, Aegnor, and Angrod leaped into action, each one grabbing a limb and forcing him to the bed. From his place by the fire outside, Maglor moaned miserably and guiltily.

'Keep that fire hot,' Amras commanded, feeling furious. 'The arrowhead is detatched,' he said angrily, and then swore. 'Keep holding him. I have to open the entry wound.' Amras drew his hunting knife and doused it with the alcohol, then turned back to the bed.

He did not hesitate.

Quickly slicing open the entry wound and ignoring the Elves struggling to hold the blond to the bed, Amras took a single deep breath before digging his finger into the open flesh beside the arrow shaft.

'The arrowhead is deeply lodged,' Amras gasped, closing his eyes as he tried to feel around the layers of damaged muscle. 'I believe it is lodged in the bone-'

Finrod's muscles strained as he held Celegorm's leg to the bed. He had already been kicked once, and he could feel the right side of his jaw beginning to swell.

'Is there nothing you can give him?' Curufin cried, struggling to maintain a hold on Celegorm's good shoulder.

Amras was not listening. His eyes were closed, and his finger was probing the inside of Celegorm's shoulder. Celegorm's blue eyes began to lose focus as he hyperventilated.

'No, no, no-' Curufin snapped. 'Stay awake. Breathe, Celegorm, breathe.'

Maglor suddenly appeared by Celegorm's head and began speaking softly in Quenyan while braiding the blond hair to the side.

'Hurry,' Maglor said softly to Amras, whose eyes opened in triumph.

'There. The arrowhead is lodged deeply, between the shoulder and the collarbone. I am going to try to remove it. Do not let him pass out and watch his pulse.'

Amras felt around the arrowhead with his forefinger and middle finger and wrapped his fingers around either side of it, but even though he pulled with as much force as he could muster, the arrowhead refused to budge.

Amras removed his bloody fingers with a swear word and rinsed them again with the alcohol. The white fur blanket on the ground turned pink as blood ran from his fingers. Celegorm's tense body suddenly relaxed as the pressure was relieved, and his breathing slowed.

'I have to widen the wound. I cannot reach the arrowhead.'

Curufin swore as Amras cleaned his knife with the alcohol once more.

'Hold him,' was all Amras said, and then every arm tensed as the knife cut through layers of skin and muscle and Celegorm cried horrible swear words through the leather. The wound now sufficiently opened, Amras dug his fingers into the muscle once more.

Finrod growled as he suffered another brutal kick, this time to the ribs. Though he was not weak, his arms were beginning to ache from the strain, and his head began to throb painfully behind his eyes. He glanced at the tempting bottle of alcohol on the bedside table before shaking his head and refocusing on his task.

Amras secured the arrowhead with his thumb and forefinger before yanking with all the strength in his arm. The blood made the arrowhead slippery, and for a moment Amras feared that he had lost his grip, but then he stumbled backwards with something sharp in his fingers.

'There it is,' the redhead breathed, then turned to Maglor. 'I need a poultice made with the yellow flowers in the medicine cabinet- second jar on the left. Take Angrod with you,' he added, because the blond was staring somewhat faintly at the bloody arrowhead in Amras's fingers.

Finrod relaxed his hold on Celegorm's leg as the thrashing subsided and was replaced by a look of utter exhaustion.

'Poultice?' Curufin asked, looking up at Amras with anxious eyes.

'The arrowhead was poisoned,' Amras clarified. 'I am not sure what poison was used, but we need to draw it out nonetheless.'

Curufin furrowed his dark eyebrows. 'Are you so certain that it is poison?' he asked. 'If I recall, these are normal symptoms for any arrow wound.'

Amras set the arrowhead on the bedside table and rinsed his hands with the alcohol once more before glancing dubiously at his brother.

'His eyes are rolling back in his head and he is blazing with fever. His skin is sensitive to the touch, as are his nerves.'

'And how, pray tell, would you know all of that?' Curufin challenged. Finrod was tempted to take a step back. Amras only sighed longsufferingly.

'Feel his forehead.'

Curufin did so, and the blond flinched at his touch. Curufin removed his hand as if he had been burned.

'I have never seen Celegorm flinch, not when we used to leap out at him in a vain attempt to scare him and especially not when someone touched him. Therefore, he suffers sensitive skin and nerves. It has likely escalated the pain one hundred fold,' the redhead added, somewhat guiltily.

Curufin still did not look convinced, and at his narrow-eyed stare Amras slammed his fist on the bedside table, rattling the bottle of alcohol.

'Do you really believe that an arrow from Mairon's own bow, intended for the assassination of Maglor, would not be poisoned? Or are you refusing to believe such a notion in your blind emotional state?'

Finrod glanced anxiously from Curufin to Amras, and when the black-haired Fëanorian practically snarled at the redhead, Finrod, Caranthir, and Aegnor leaped at him to restrain his arms.

'He is only trying to help!' Finrod growled in Curufin's ear, ducking the Fëanorian's elbow at the same time.

'Pull up a chair,' Amras said as he mixed seeds into a glass of water, ignoring entirely the chaos erupting not three feet away from him. 'I guarantee that someone will have to sit down during this next step.'

Finrod's eyes flew to the blazing fire and his mouth opened in shock. 'Are you intending-'

Amras shook his head. 'The wound will not need to be cauterized, although at first I feared it might require such treatment. The bleeding has slowed considerably now.'

Maglor and Angrod reentered, each holding a steaming bowl and several cloths.

Amras rinsed his hands again with alcohol and held up the glass of water, in which he had dissolved several tiny seeds.

'Poppy seeds,' Finrod said in sudden comprehension.

'For the pain,' Amras replied grimly, and Curufin removed the leather from Celegorm's mouth as Amras lifted the glass to the blond's pale lips.

'Drink this,' the redhead said quietly. 'It will help.' As Celegorm greedily swallowed the mixture, Amras turned to Maglor and Angrod. 'Keep those poultices hot. If they cool they are of no use to us.'

Removing the empty glass from Celegorm's mouth and placing the leather back between his teeth, Amras turned to Maglor and Angrod, who were just outside with the poultices over a small but extremely hot fire.

'We are going to pack the wound with this poultice,' Amras explained, once again cleansing his hands with the alcohol, almost out of habit rather than necessity. 'It will draw out the poison, and it will also prevent infection. We will place a cloth on the inside of the wound, so that we will be able to easily remove and replace it, and then we will fill the cloth with the mixture.' The redhead took one of the thin cloth squares and took a deep breath as he turned to Finrod, Caranthir, Curufin, and Aegnor. 'Are we ready?'

All four nodded curtly, but Amras made sure that there was a chair nearby, just in case. He could not have any of them passing out, and Angrod already looked white as a sheet, while Curufin's face was maintaining a dark shade of red that rivaled Caranthir's cheeks.

'I will be glad when all of this is over,' Amras breathed, and then stuffed the thin cloth into the wound as deep as it would go without adding too much pressure. Celegorm inhaled sharply and his chest heaved as he hyperventilated once more.

'Bring the poultice,' Amras shouted over the noise of Celegorm's breathing and the struggling Elves at his side. Maglor hurried over with the steaming bowl and a spoon.

'I need you to hold the cloth in place so that I may fill the wound with the mixture,' Amras told Maglor, whose eyes widened in fear.

'You will not hurt him any more than I already have. Just hold the corners of the cloth out of my way.'

Lowering himself to his knees directly beside the bed, Maglor reached around with his two trembling hands and gently pressed the corners of the cloth square, and taking a spoonful of the poultice, Amras scooped the steaming mixture into the wound.

Celegorm did not start screaming until Amras began pushing the poultice deeper with his fingers.

'Watch his pulse!' Amras snapped as he scooped another spoonful into the wound. 'Calm him down!'

Celegorm was sweating so profusely that Caranthir nearly lost his grip on the blond's tense arm. Caranthir could feel the rapidly throbbing heartbeat beneath the clammy skin and he looked to the blond's face in panic. The light eyelashes were fluttering and the blue eyes were rolling behind his head and without thinking, Caranthir opened Celegorm's clenched fist and squeezed the sweaty palm.

Celegorm gripped Caranthir's hand so tightly that he feared it might be broken.

'Why is he screaming?' Curufin demanded, somehow maintaining a murderous glare as he gently wiped sweat from his brother's forehead.

'I-' For the first time that night, Amras hesitated, and then spoke. 'I think it is the poison leaving him.'

'I have never seen a poison such as this,' Maglor breathed, looking sick.

'There must be something you can do!' Finrod cried, struggling to hold Celegorm as his body suddenly seized. 'Something, anything- by Eru, give him the alcohol!'

'If I thought alcohol would help, I would have given it to him long ago,' Amras said grimly as he inserted more of the poultice. 'I fear that it would react negatively with the poison. We are too close to the end, now- it would do no good at this point.'

Celegorm's breathing suddenly slowed and his eyes lost focus completely. 'His pulse is weakening,' Curufin gasped.

'Keep him awake,' Amras directed as he inserted the last of the poultice. 'We are almost finished. We are almost finished.'

Caranthir felt the grip on his hand loosen, and he squeezed it as tightly as he could.

'We are almost finished,' Amras was whispering desperately, and for the first time his hands began to tremble. 'We are almost finished. Quickly- give me those bandages!' he snapped, and began to wrap around the front and back of Celegorm's shoulder, and wrapped around his chest as well for added support.

'Brother, please-' Maglor whispered, beginning to braid Celegorm's sweat-drenched hair to the side with shaking fingers. 'Do not leave us now. We have already lost too many-'

Amras tied off the bandage and ripped it with his teeth.

'It is finished,' he gasped, stumbling backwards a few steps before regaining his balance.

'No, it is not,' Finrod said suddenly. 'His heart-'

Amras's eyes widened and he fumbled for a pulse on the blond's pale neck.

'He is not breathing-' Curufin gasped, almost hysterically.

Amras placed his right knee on the bed for support and leaned over Celegorm. He pressed the heel of his right palm into the center of Celegorm's chest and then covered it with his left hand, and then he began compressions.

'You cannot leave us-' Amras growled through gritted teeth. 'What would Father say? What would Mother say? What-' the redhead's breathing hitched, but he continued nonetheless. 'What would you tell Amrod? Would you give some sorry excuse about how you gave up? Is this really too difficult for Celegorm, son of Fëanor? It is not your time to leave us, brother. I will not let you leave us.'

For a moment, the silence was so thick that nobody moved or breathed.

And then Celegorm gasped.

Amras removed his trembling hands from the blond's chest and watched the bandaged torso rise and fall with shallow breaths.

Curufin collapsed into the chair and laid his forehead on the mattress. His shoulders shook with what might have been relieved sobs.

Finrod simultaneously released his grip on Celegorm's leg and a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Caranthir managed to pry his cramped fingers from Celegorm's clammy grip, and Maglor closed his eyes and took several deep breaths.

'We are not in the clear just yet,' Amras whispered. 'Until he wakes, he is still in critical condition. We will need to watch him until he becomes stable.' The redhead turned to Finrod, Aegnor, and Angrod with grateful eyes. 'You have my everlasting thanks for your help,' he said, and the three blonds bowed slightly.

'We are forever in your debt,' Maglor added softly, and Finrod inhaled sharply as his mind filled with memories of Helcaraxe and as he suddenly understood the meaning of Maglor's words.

'We will always be here for our family,' Finrod replied gravely. 'For by Oath you may be bound, but our binding is in blood. Whenever you may need us...' He bowed again.

'Were any others wounded?' Maglor asked suddenly. All eyes turned to him. 'In the attack. Were there any others who received grave injury? I saw an Elf take one of Sauron's knives for me, though I cannot recall who it was.'

'If I am not mistaken,' Finrod replied, 'it was the Lord Fingolfin. We will find what information we can,' he promised, and then he and his brothers took their leave.


End file.
